


Blitzkrieg

by vamplamp



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Angst, Bat Family, Gen, Home Invasion, Hostage Situations, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Graphic Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-11-27 10:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18193364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vamplamp/pseuds/vamplamp
Summary: Pushing open his bedroom door, Tim stifled a yawn but then almost choked on it when he felt the cold press of what was unmistakably a gun muzzle pushing up against his temple.‘Do anything at all kid and the first person to set foot in this hallway dies. So make a sound, I dare you.’---In which a group break into Wayne Manor with the intention of taking as much of the Wayne fortune as they can and getting some revenge on Bruce. The family quickly go from faking civilian reactions to feeling genuine fear of their powerlessness.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Got suddenly struck by the motivation to write this so I just banged something out. I just hope you enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

**1\. Tim**

Tim’s 17 years old and he knows it’s a terrible teenage cliche but his favourite nights of the week are undoubtedly the ones when everyone comes in from patrol and goes straight up to bed. No extra time to work on unfinished cases, no all-nighters because it’s basically morning anyway, just in at around 4am and straight upstairs to their respective rooms. This isn’t because Tim intends to sleep himself, far from it. It’s because everybody sleeping means there is no one around when temporarily disables the manors perimeter security via his personal laptop and calls out his window to Kon so they can spend a few hours together without one of his brothers constantly breathing down both of their necks.

Tonight was just like any one of those nights, expect everyone is staying at the manor tonight on account of it being Dick ‘I’m friends with literally everybody’ Grayson’s birthday tomorrow. So scattered through their various bedrooms by the -practically unheard of- early time of 3am was: Dick, Jason, guilt tripped into spending the night and attending lunch tomorrow by Alfred, Cass, Damian, Duke, Bruce, Alfred and of course Tim who was currently in an oversized superboy T-shirt and boxer briefs, looking out of his open window waiting for Kon to show up. It’s not until 5 minutes after he initially called that his phone dings with an overly apologetic string of messages from his boyfriend explaining how Jon and Clark had roped him into joining in on movie night and he currently had his pint-sized little brother sprawled out over his legs and in a sugar coma leaving him utterly dead to the world. Tim felt himself visibly deflate but made sure to send a quick text back and he smiled when he received a heart in response. Not particularly feeling like sleeping, Tim quickly reinstated the perimeter security systems and opened up some unfinished WE work so that he could at least turn his inability to sleep into productivity.

Unfortunately, it was only a few minutes later than Tim caught himself blankly staring into the brightness of the screen uncomprehendingly and he blinked sharply to try and clear the haze from his eyes. Coffee. Coffee was what he needed. Running a hand through his hair, still only half dry from the post-patrol shower he’d taken, Tim stood up from his desk and made his way towards the door, wincing at the loud creek one of the floorboards let out when he stepped down onto it. The last thing he wanted right now was to accidentally wake the goblin next door and just cause himself further grief. Pushing open his bedroom door, he stifled a yawn but then almost choked on it when he felt the cold press of what was unmistakably a gun muzzle pushed up against his temple.

‘Do anything at all kid and the first person to set foot in this hallway dies. So make a sound, I dare you.’

Tim’s initial thought was that this was just Jason playing some insane joke but the whisper of the voice sounded too old and the angle of the gun barrel suggested the person holding it was too short to be his older brother. Not daring to take his eyes off of the wall ahead of him, Tim raised his palms in a hesitant show of cooperation. He let some of his unease show in a visible tremble that spread into his hands because until he figured out if this guy knew about his other identity he was just Timothy Drake-Wayne, rich kid from birth to present who definitely didn’t know five different ways how to strip the gun off of this guy in about half a second flat.

‘There you go kid, now be a good boy and put your hands behind your back and let my friend here put his cuffs on you.’

Tim fought to ignore the way the man’s words made his skin crawl and tried to focus on what information he could gather from his surroundings as he moved to comply. The guys voice was being kept low which implied at least some of the people in the rooms around them were still sleeping and they couldn’t afford to have Tim make any louder noises that might risk waking someone up. The guy who emerged from the shadows to Tim’s right was so big that, even though he could only see him out of the corner of his eye, Tim was shocked that he hadn’t noticed him sooner. It took all of his focus to go against his instincts and just let the guy cuff him without a fight. It was only after the cuffs were in place that Tim began to question himself, these weren’t regular handcuffs. They were the heavy duty kind used in places like Arkham, noticeably heavier for sure but more importantly damn near impossible to pick without the right tools. Tools that were still down in the cave and in the pocket of his favourite jacket back in his room. Shit.

‘This is the one the boss told us to use to make sure the street kid doesn’t act up right?’

It was the big guy who had spoken and the one with the gun sighed with clear frustration in response, ‘Yes, this is him. Were you even listening when we went over everything for the hundredth time literally half an hour ago?’

Okay so, the guy with the gun might be smaller but Tim was fairly certain that if he did have to fight his way out of this he was the one he had to worry about the most. The entire time since Tim had come out of his room the gun hadn’t wavered, shaken or hit him. That was what concerned him the most, with his experience of kidnappings the jumpy ones might be unpredictable but the steady ones were always the most experienced, and therefore most likely to go through with their threats.

Keeping his mouth shut, Tim followed the direction of the hand on his shoulder as it turned him round, the gun moving to press into the back of his head instead, and a sharp nudge sent him stumbling down the hallway. For the first time ever he cursed just how thick the carpeting in Wayne manor was, the man ahead of him’s booted feet didn’t make a sound so there was really no hope of him being able to use his bare ones to attempt to send out the alert.

They’d walked him past both Cass’ and Duke’s doors before the eerie stillness of the manor was interrupted by Dick’s door being swung open and Tim froze in place as he was forced to watch his older brother get swung out and pushed face first into the floor, a gun against his temple in an instant. Dick was in only his superman pyjama pants and a pair of handcuffs that looked similar to how Tim’s felt but in addition he was sporting a strip of duct tape over his mouth and red rimmed and bruising left eye. What freaked Tim out the most was that the entire sequence of events had taken place in near silence, iterating further just how much these guys seemed to know exactly what it was they were doing and how to pull it off. Like the guy in front of him, the man with his hand splayed over the back of Dick’s head was wearing a black ski mask and a simple black suit with a white shirt. Tim tried not to think about where the spots of blood that speckled the new guy’s shirt had come from instead he focused on what he could see of Dick. Dismally, he could only see that enough of the fear in Dick’s eyes was fake that he had to be putting on the same rich kid act that Tim was before gunman behind him was shoving him hard on the shoulder, not giving him a choice about moving on past Dick and further down the dim corridor.

Upon reaching the stairs, Tim was surprised when, instead of being urged down towards the family living areas, the men urged him upwards to the next floor. Having noticed his hesitation gunman chuckled darkly,

‘Don’t you worry your little head, you’ll get to be with your whole airhead family in a minute. Well probably, we’ve got a use for you first so just keep quiet and maybe see if you can squeeze out a few tears? That would definitely help with the show.’

Tim definitely was not going to cry but telling the man in the position to shoot him that didn’t really seem like the smartest plan so instead he opted to keep quiet and played the good hostage until he could figure out what exactly they were after. Their little parade stopped outside the room that Tim was pretty sure Jason had chosen to occupy. There were another two armed men already waiting outside and big guy who’d come up with Tim had also produced his own handgun at some point.

It was the guy Tim was slowly figuring out to be pretty high up the power ladder that spoke up first, ‘you got him dosed?’

The guy standing closest to Jason’s door nodded with a sharp jerk, ‘yep put it through his open window 10 minutes back, guy should be able to wake up but definitely won’t be able to take us out.’ The guy smirked and Tim’s stomach flipped a little at the obvious dark amusement, ‘I’ll honestly be surprised if he can even walk straight but I guess it’s not going to hurt to have a little insurance against getting shot. You sure we can’t dirty the kid up a bit first to make it more effective?’

‘I’m sure a gun to his little brother’s head is going to be incentive enough,’ the voice snapped through the air, louder than before, not that that was surprising if they really had drugged Jason like they’d said, ‘now quit delaying and get on with it. We’re due downstairs in 7 minutes.

Suddenly, Tim found himself strangely glad that this guy hadn’t been the one to bring him upstairs because he had a feeling he wouldn’t currently be in the same pretty much okay condition he was if that were the case. He’d pick the cool professional that wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him over the guy who gets kicks out of other people’s pain any day. Wow, what point had his life come to when he could genuinely compare the quality of different types of kidnappers and always be speaking from personal experience.

Gunman finally made his way around the side of Tim and into his line of sight, though he kept a hand on the connecting part of the handcuffs and the gun-trained right on his forehead. Tim hadn’t been planning to try and run right now anyway, not when he had no idea just how many other intruders there currently were in the house, but he figured that the visual of the gun was definitely being fairly effective as extra motivation to stay put.

‘So this is how the next 6 minutes is going to go kid. You don’t talk, move, shout, run or so much as fidget. You do exactly as I say when I say it no matter what happens with your brother in there. If both of you behave then we will have you down and with your family in no time at all and then we can work towards getting this thing put into all of our pasts.’

Tim closed his eyes for a brief moment and nodded.

‘Verbal confirmation please kid.’

Yeah, this guy was definitely a professional. ‘Got it. I don’t do anything you don’t tell me.’

‘Good boy,’ the man’s gaze was hard as granite as he moved back around Tim so he could see both him and the others. With some kind of signal given from outside of Tim’s line of sight the three barrelled through Jason’s door, clearly no longer concerned about being quiet, and Tim found himself being pushed harshly in after them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the amazing responses to the first chapter, I just hope this one lives up to expectations!
> 
> Check the tags and end notes for a few warnings, nothing too heavy but I'm just covering my bases.

**Jason**

Jason woke up slowly, barely cracking his eyes open as his brain slowly came online. This immediately alerted him that something was very wrong. Jason never woke slowly, and definitely never with his brain this foggy. Even if he hadn’t had a nightmare of some kind he was always thrown not nonviolently into consciousness without the chance to gradually come to. Keeping his face turned into his pillow, Jason tried to fight through the clouding in his head and listened hard for any signs of disruption in the room. He was startled to hear the whisper of indecipherable voices from behind his door alongside the expected flutter of the curtains caused by the window he liked to keep open whenever he slept.

Frustration curled in the pit of Jason’s stomach as he realised that it had taken a slightly louder shift from outside to bring him back from where he had accidentally started to drift, something was really wrong. Deciding that he couldn’t risk losing focus again and to save whoever was outside the trouble of coming in, Jason attempted to crawl out of bed.

Shock flooded through his system because his body wasn’t responding right, his limbs were moving but it was horribly uncoordinated in a way Jason hadn’t felt since he’d attempted to pull himself across a warehouse floor on numerous broken bones. 

Fighting to keep his head focused on making his hand, wrist and arm work together at once, Jason was caught by surprise when his door suddenly flew open so hard it cracked into the wall behind it, simultaneously sending a slam of pain through his now aching head. How had he managed to forget about the sounds outside the door? Jason was pretty much powerless to do anything but watch as five figures stormed the room, three of which had guns pointed right at him. Forgetting just how useless his limbs were for a moment, Jason attempted to push himself upright, only resulting in turning himself onto his side, facing the room, as opposed to his stomach. One of the men with the guns smirked through his ski mask at that and lowered the muzzle a little as he half turned to face the two guys behind him, one of which was in distinctly different get up as the others and what the fuck was that Tim?

‘I told you he’d be down for the count, why can’t you trust me with these things?’

Jason’s stupid brain couldn’t seem to get past how this was just wrong. This was wrong. These men shouldn’t be here. These people weren’t family. Everything about this was wrong. Realising he was drifting again, Jason shifted his eyes back to focus on the group, he tried to ignore the way his vision had started to swim at the edges, trying to focus the blurry bits was just making his head hurt. Shit someone was talking.

‘Hey, hey, look at me, you’re gonna want to hear this bit, it’s important,’ Jason flicked his eyes around the room in search of the source of the voice until they eventually settled on the guy holding a gun on Tim, a sight that made Jason’s stomach churn. ‘There you go, now you’re gonna do exactly what we tell you to do or little brother here’s gonna catch a bullet. We know Wayne has given you self defence lessons and you’re a big guy so I get why you’d want to try something but from what I can see you’re drugged to high heaven right now so trust me, I can pull this trigger before you get within two feet of little bro.’

A distant part of Jason’s brain was telling him all about exactly how he could disarm the guy before he even got half a chance to shoot Tim but the prevailing part could barely remember the right order of action, even if his dead weight limbs were physically capable of executing it. Why hadn’t Tim fought back? That was wrong. Tim shouldn’t be being held at gunpoint right now. These men  _ shouldn’t be here _ .

Jason wanted to yell and punch out his frustrations as he was forced to just watch while the guy at the back gestured to the other three who promptly descended on him. The swarm of motion confused Jason to the point where he had no idea who exactly it was that clicked the handcuffs into place only that they felt exactly like the ones Joker had used on him in Ethiopia. The realisation shot like a jolt of electricity up his spine and, before he could think, he reacted on pure instinct and threw his entire body backwards, chucking the guy who’d previously had a knee against his spine across to the other side of the bed. Chest constricting from the startlingly short breaths he was taking, Jason was just about the swing around to face the others, still half caught in the flashback, when he was jerked back into reality by a gunshot. The deafening nose made his skull feel like it was cracking in - Fuck. Fuck. Tim. Jason whipped his head around so quickly that he had zero chance of keeping what was in front of him straight and the only thing he could make out was the expression of agony on his little brother’s face before he was careening forward face first into the floor. Thank god for thick carpets.

**Tim**

Tim knows what’s coming a second before the rest of the room because he’s seen that look in Jason’s eyes before, whenever he hears the Joker’s laugh, when he’s made to stay in a small box-shaped space, that time when Bruce had pulled him out of Gotham harbour and he hadn’t stopped shaking all night. It was like time slowed down and Tim was powerless to do anything but watch as Jason threw his bulk backwards and into the guy behind him, desperately yanking against the already locked handcuffs and no doubt bruising his wrists.

Reminded to focus on his own more than precarious situation by the shift of the cold metal of the gun against his temple, Tim attempted to throw a foot backwards in the direction of the man’s leg, deeply missing his boots as he felt his barefoot bash hard against the guys knee. Starting to turn, with the intention of getting a kick into the man’s arm and so deal with the gun threat at the same time, this would be so much easier if he could use his hands, Tim only had a second to register the muzzle less than two inches away from his face before it was moving down and the trigger being pulled straight towards the leg he had been lifting in response.

The loudness of the shot only served to emphasise the silence of the room afterwards, everybody had frozen and turned to look. The impact of the shot had swept Tim’s leg out from under him and as the agonising pain started to spread out he registered to fact that he was totally being supported by the arms and torso of the man who’d shot him. Tim closed his eyes tight and bit his lip hard in an effort to not give these guys the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. Fuck, Tim hated knee wounds, they always hurt so bad. Still stuck halfway between his Red Robin and Timothy Drake-Wayne headspaces, Tim didn’t resist when the guy pushed him back onto his feet and levelled the gun back at his forehead, seemingly completely uncaring about the steady flow of blood beginning to cover Tim’s calf.

‘What the fuck? How the hell does some billionaires kid end up with so many scars?’

Drawing Tim’s attention back to the two biggest guys, who had moved to pick up Jason from where he had somehow ended up on the floor, he tried to push down the pain and remember he wasn’t fighting just to try and keep himself safe right now. The way his brother’s eyes were open told him he was at least conscious but it didn’t look as though Jason was actually registering anything that was going on around him. He was also shirtless, in only a pair of baggy pyjama pants and all of his scars were on obvious display, including the shining autopsy one filling his chest.

‘Huh, look at that, guess Brucie Wayne might not be such a good dad after all,’ the guy talking was the same one that had struck Tim as particularly sadistic outside the door, he was now fiddling with a small metal canister he’d picked up off the floor as well as poking at the nasty looking bruise forming on his forehead, ‘what do you think little man? You ever fall down some stairs too? Maybe walk into a door frame?’

Tim tried not to bristle at the guys condescending tone, ‘it wasn’t Bruce, Jason got kidnapped in Europe when he was a kid. Don’t you read the news?’ Even though his voice was wobbling a little from the pain, Tim winced at the way he’d come off more snarky than afraid.  

‘Watch yourself kid, you’ve been lucky so far but we don’t need you alive. Know that the next one will go between your eyes,’ something about the guy holding the gun’s demeanour had definitely changed in the moments after the shot and his voice was flat now, completely devoid of emotion, leaving Tim with no doubt he wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

‘Now walk,’ the guy used the gun to motion towards the door.

There was absolutely zero chance Tim heard that right, ‘I’m sorry, what?’

‘You heard the me, you can be brave enough to fight back, you can be brave enough to take the pain. Now walk.’

Tim grit is teeth, allowing his voice to wobble a little from the pain, looking weak right now was definitely needed to distract them from just how well executed his kick to the guys knee had been and the fact that, judging from the way he was trying to keep weight off of it, it was almost definitely twisted. Plus honestly, Tim was feeling a little defenceless right now.

‘You shot me in the leg.’

‘Yeah and you’d better get going unless you want a matching one on the opposite side.’

Not seeing any way out of this, especially not when he was currently also looking out for an extremely drugged up Jason, Tim started to slowly limp his way to the door, exhaling sharply with every other step as intense pain rocketed up his leg. Every time he slowed down even a fraction he could feel the pressure of the gun up against his spine, unrelenting and nauseating. Grim determination washed over him and his whole world became systematically putting one foot in front of the other whilst following the curt directions of the man behind him. A distant part of him knew that they were heading to the main dining room but that didn’t stop him from freezing on instinct in the doorway when they got there. The man immediately shoved him forwards with a harsh hand on his back, causing Tim to take a step and force all of his weight down onto his injured leg. Pure agony washed over his entire being and his body immediately rebelled against the upset and emptied up the meagre meal of cereal bars and coffee he’d had last night up and onto the floor in front of him. He barely felt it, still too focused on rapidly blinking his eyes in an effort to clear the tears gathering there, when two pairs of arms hauled him up off the ground but he did feel the intense relief when he was placed into one of the high backed chairs around the dining table, the weight finally taken off his feet.

It took a long moment of intense deep breathing and digging into the recesses of his mind for lessons about pain control from Bruce, before Tim managed to clear his head enough to properly process what was happening around him. Firstly, he made eye contact with Dick who was tied with thick rope to the chair opposite him and looking across the table with concern in his eyes. He appeared mostly unharmed, thank god, but the duct tape Tim had seen earlier was still firmly in place over his brothers mouth. Trust Dick to be the one to get mouthy. Then next to Dick was Cass, who looked more angry than Tim had ever seen her. She kept on looking from Tim to the guy who he’d been dragged in with and he knew that if she wasn’t trying to follow everyone else’s lead of staying put for now, the guy would already be bleeding excessive amounts. Duke was next to her and again appeared mostly unharmed other than a slightly worrying cut running through his left eyebrow, but his eyes were clear and watching Dick probably in order to take cues for how to act. He hadn’t really had too much experience with civilian hostage taking and kidnapping yet after all.

As Tim moved on he knew he was cataloging things as a way of keeping himself calm and separated from the pain, quite possibly his brain fighting it’s natural reflex to just go into shock, but it was helpful so he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Jason had been thrown into the big chair at the head of the table at Tim’s end and even though they had tied ropes tightly around his chest like the rest of them he wasn’t totally sure they were making that much difference. Jason still appeared to be worryingly out of it, his gaze appearing to focus for a moment before almost instantly starting to drift away again. Damian and Bruce were still nowhere to be seen and Alfred was also noticeably absent. He knew there was a good chance Bruce and the demon were fine seeing as they seemed to want to whole family alive but a sharp jolt of anxiety twisted in Tim’s gut at the thought of Alfred. He didn’t know what any of them would do if something happened to him. The most worrying thing though was that there were at least 30 men and women, all armed with various firearms, lining the edge of the room as well as one standing behind each of their chairs aiming for their heads.

The one burning question that wouldn’t stop popping up in Tim’s head was how the hell they’d managed to get past the manor security. The only people he knew who had managed that were Deathstroke, the Court of Owls and Ra’s and the League, who had all been after Batman not Bruce Wayne.  _ Unless they didn’t have to crack the system. _ Oh god. Tim felt his gut drop out and he was certain that if his stomach wasn’t already empty, it definitely would be now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings-  
> Drugging that leads to disorientation  
> Not graphically described gunshot wound  
> Not graphically described intense pain that causes vomiting  
> Mention of possible child abuse that isn't true  
> \---  
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter and please let me know in the comments what you thought if you can, as I'm always looking to make my writing better!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the first half of this chapter is quite a lot of thought and text rather than being broken up by speech like usual so I hope it reads okay. Dick's POV was definitely interesting to write so I think I'll probably come back to it again in future. Hope you enjoy!

**Dick**

So Dick is not panicking. He’s fine. He, especially, has been kidnapped before too many times to count both as Bruce Wayne’s ward and the Boy Hostage and he’s still here. This is fine. So the guy had surprised him when he woke him up and Dick had kind of swung at him before he remembered that, yeah Dick Grayson was well known for being the mouthiest and most annoying hostage around but, he never really fought back. Unless it was Deathstroke doing the kidnapping because then all bets were off, Slade was just the worst. So Dick had reluctantly let his punch swing wide in an amateurish way and only pushed back a little when the guy had whacked a piece of tape over his mouth and snapped the cuffs around his wrists. Maybe he’d tried to run for the door so he could at least warn the others and ended up getting his face shoved into a carpet and a gun to his head all whilst only in his brightly coloured superman pyjama pants but it’s not like that wasn’t normal ‘I don’t like being kidnapped’ behaviour. So Dick was fine because Cass and Duke both seemed pretty much aware and unharmed. He is definitely not panicking.

Then they walk Tim and Jason into the room and okay maybe Dick’s panicking a little. Walk is definitely the wrong word because Tim practically staggers into the doorway looking about half a second from passing out, leaving a trail of his own blood and deathly pale. Dick’s pretty sure that if the guy had actually bothered to take the tape off of his mouth at some point he would be yelling fucking murder at the lot of them right now, when another faceless henchperson shoves his little brother in the back causing a shout of unrelenting agony to rip through the silence of the dining room. This is followed swiftly by what Dick knows has got to be retching, even if he had had to look away a moment before.

The thing that got him to take his eyes off Tim is the sight of another of his little brothers being basically carried into the room by another two guys. Dick’s stomach drops. He hasn’t seen that horribly checked-out look in Jason’s eyes in two years since the days after the first and last time he’d gotten hit with Scarecrow’s fear toxin since coming back. The toxin finally cleared from his system, Jason had spent days curled in bed staring at the wall, completely unresponsive to anything around him unless it was ready made food and water which he consumed silently. The only thing that relieved Dick now was that the look must be being caused by some other kind of drug, rather than the toxin.

Suddenly, the fact that Dick didn’t think he was capable of escaping these cuffs without lock-picks he didn’t have, seemed like a lot bigger of a concern than it had 30 seconds ago. He was fairly confident that if they really needed it, Cass had slim enough wrists that she should be able to slip them if she dislocated her thumb but, with the way they were aiming guns at each of them, Dick didn’t think that there was a chance in hell that even she would be able to disarm the entire room before at least one of them got taken out.

Trying to take deep breaths, Dick attempted to keep control of himself. His siblings needed him right now, he had to keep it together. Be the one who could stay focused no matter what. Don’t let emotions cloud your judgement. Put everything away in little boxes. Tim needs you. Jason needs you. Cass needs you. Duke needs you. You can’t be the one to lose your head with this.

Dick almost breaks down at the sound of his father’s voice, coming from the hall. He doesn’t but it scares him how much it’s a damn near thing. Bruce’s voice slowly grows in volume and as they get closer, Dick can begin to make out words.

‘Don’t kill him, please don’t kill him.’

Or sentences that pretty much summarise a similar sentiment on repeat. Dick frowns, trying to prepare himself as much as possible for whatever it is they’re about to be faced with. The moment the group come into the room it becomes evident to Dick that it’s not one of their captors that Bruce is talking to.

Bruce comes in first, his arms twisted behind him much like the rest of them, with guns pointed by two men at both his back and temple. It always surprises Dick just how wary some kidnappers are of a supposedly harmless billionaire playboy, maybe someone finally noticed that the guy’s built like an actual tank under all those suits. The second group is made up of two figures, one gripping the other around the neck with his arm as he hauls him along. Damian’s back in ramrod straight and Dick can see the tension running through every inch of his body making it clear that he is doing everything in his power not to beat the guy nudging a gun into his hair to a bloody pulp. It’s most likely only his father’s wishes that have gotten them this far and the fact that anyone that doesn’t know Damian is most likely mistaking anger for terror. Bruce himself also appears unharmed, but Dick figures he’s pretty much the veteran of kidnappings by this point, mostly he just seems far more concerned about glancing over his shoulder to make sure Damian hasn’t done anything Robin like and is actually still there.

One of the men with Bruce looks immensely relieved to have arrived with the rest of them and immediately proceeds to tell him that, ‘if you don’t shut the fuck of right now then yes, we absolutely will be killing the kid,’ and then slamming the butt of his gun into Bruce’s jaw, sending him down onto the floor in an exaggerated action Dick has been watching Brucie Wayne pull off since he was eight. Dick gaze immediately snaps to a now practically vibrating Damian who, thank god, makes eye-contact with him for long enough to allow him to shake his head slightly and get his little brother to step off for the moment. If this is how Bruce is playing it then Dick is going to follow his lead, at least until he knows what this is actually about and that whatever it is isn’t going to compromise Bruce’s judgement.

Damian shoots him a death glare that is has far more Al Ghul in it than Dick is happy with but at least it gets Damian to do little more than stamp hard on the guy’s foot as he gets pulled over and shoved him into the chair at the opposite end of the table to where Dick is sitting, which only causes him tied to the chair a little more forcefully than necessary but doesn’t get anyone shot in the head, so that counts as a win right now.

The thug who hit Bruce punches him a couple more times, his form is all wrong though so Dick doesn’t worry too much about serious damage, before hauling him up off the floor. It’s when Bruce gets up on his feet and is being pushed towards the chair at the head of the table opposite to Jason that he finally gets a look at his two injured sons. Any kind of amusement his father was feeling at the fact that these guys were unknowingly trying to hold the Bats of Gotham hostage bleeds out of his eyes in a moment and for a horrific second Dick is reminded of the Bruce of post-Jason’s death when he spent everyday day terrified he was going to receive a call from Alfred telling him Bruce had lost it completely and massacred the entirety of Arkham.

‘What the hell did you do to my son's?!’ Bruce is pulling against the handcuffs and other bindings so hard it takes three guys to hold him down so they can finish the job with more rope than was probably used for the rest of them put together. Dick doesn’t think even The Bat could escape that mess of ties without his belt. ‘You said if I cooperated none of them would get hurt, do they look like they’re fucking okay to you?’

Dick glances away from Bruce for a moment. Jason still looks pretty much the same, eyes drifting to the corner of the room, unfocused and distant. Tim, though his eyes are focused on Bruce which is a good sign, he has definitely lost a lot of blood for someone his size. His longer hair is pressed against his forehead from sweat and he’s so pale. Dick is just endlessly thankful the shot didn’t hit any important arteries, otherwise no doubt his little brother would have bled out a long time ago.

‘He needs a doctor goddammit, can’t you see that? You don’t want to go down for murder as well as kidnapping, trust me. Whatever you’re being paid, I’ll double it. Just please, he’s my son.’

Bruce is cut off by a voice unfamiliar to Dick entering from the other door to the dining room that leads to the entrance hall rather than the staircase with the quickest route to the bedrooms. Unfortunately, this door is behind Dick so he’s left to strain his neck in an effort to get a look at a face.

‘Ah come on Brucie, you really think this lot are only in it for the money? Maybe they all just hate you just as much as the rest of us common folk.’

The guys voice is cocky and relaxed and Dick sees Bruce’s eyes narrow in recognition. He finally enters Dick’s line of vision, coming to stand behind the back of Jason’s chair so he can look down the table and see all of them at the same time. He’s forgone the anonymous get up of the rest of them and is instead dressed in a smart navy three piece suit, complete with a black tie and grey pocket square. The guys slicked back blond hair and perfectly neat appearance sticks out in stark contrast to the rest of their dishevelled bed clothes, but, Dick supposes, that was most likely the desired effect.

‘Well, apart from the commoners you deem worthy, that is,’ he reaches a hand out and starts to card it through dark hair, coaxing a momentary and uncomfortable frown at the touch onto Jason’s face before it returns to its previous impartial expression, and Dick can feel the entire table tense at the sight of an enemy with his hands on one of their own.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about me Bruce?’

‘No, of cours-’

‘I mean it was years and years ago now that we last saw each other. I was going to sell my company out to Wayne Enterprises, you had actually chosen to be the one to come tell me you weren’t going to take the deal after all yourself. You bring your new little son, fresh out of Crime Alley, so he can look around the lab,’ he ran a hand down the side of Jason’s face as though to emphasise his point. ‘He bonds with my older daughter who was working that day. You run off back to your mansion in the hills. My daughter dies in front of me, you know how it goes.’

Bruce had previously been rigidly focused at the point of contact between this man and Jason but that seemed to shake him out of his stupor, ‘your daughter’s dead?’

The guy nodded before forming his hand into a faux gun and miming shooting Jason in the stomach several times, ‘yep, blasted by one of the Joker’s lackeys while helping out at a soup kitchen in the Narrows. The folks at Gotham General told me all about how she bled for hours before they got clearance that it was safe to enter that part of the city. She survived that long only to die in the street right where I could watch, didn’t even make it to the ambulance.’ He wiped a sleeve across his eyes aggressively before placing a hand on either side of Jason’s head, ‘and all because this little charity case right here, inspired her to do more for the homeless kids everybody else was ignoring.’

‘What do you want Richards?’ Bruce’s voice is level, ‘this has got nothing to do with me or Jason. I’m sorry about your daughter but her death was on the Joker and his men, no one else.’

‘Bullshit!’ Richards shouts, pushing Jason’s head so it whacks against the back of the chair. He then stalks halfway down the table before clearly thinking better of it and proceeding to start pacing rapidly along the side of it.

‘This has everything to do with you! You and your money. You sit here lording over Gotham with your loyal subjects, ignoring the reality of the infection that is this city. The disease that’s spreading, so much it murdered my kid and so many others but why should we worry because Bruce fucking Wayne is probably back together with that super model so who the fuck cares that Scarecrow’s escaped Arkham  _ again _ .’

He’s breathing hard right now, and swinging the arm holding gun out wide every other sentence is a nerve-racking way, ‘what do I want Bruce? What do I want? I want my daughter back! But since I can’t have that, I’m going to have to settle for making an example out you and your family instead.’

He gives them a moment to ponder over what exactly he means by example while he gestures to one of his anonymous lackeys, who approaches the table with a laptop that is placed in front of Bruce and powered up.

‘So Brucie, I’ll take the complete contents of everything single one of the bank accounts you have please along with a quick transfer from the WE funds I’ve no doubt a majority shareholder like yourself has access too. Don’t worry, I’ll leave you the house. I mean, you’ll probably end up losing it once you’re too broke to pay the bills but it’s the thought that counts’

‘I can’t do that and you know it. WE money is not mine, if you take it you’ll cripple the company. I can’t let you do that to my family or the rest of the employees and their families.’

Richards taps the gun briefly against his own temple for a moment, as though he’s lost in thought before the tiniest of smiles spreads across his face. It’s a look that gives the Dick a definite impression that the man is looking forward to something no one else knows is coming. A moment later he nods to the henchmen that had just been holding his gun in the general direction of the back of Tim’s head. Without a word the guy produces a knife from somewhere and Dick feels unbelievably powerless as he watches the blade arc through the air. It’s like a sharp punch to the gut leaving him winded and unable to get enough air in, more so due to the tape still over his mouth. He can barely feel it when the person behind him reaches around and jerks the knife out at a different angle to how it entered but he can definitely see the blood that starts to soak the tiny superman logos all over his pants. Yeah, Dick is pretty sure he regrets running for his bedroom door instead of the Titans emergency communicator that had been right there in his closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, things really aren't looking all that good...
> 
> Even though Cass is better than everybody and could most likely slip the cuffs, I really don't think that there would be a way for her to disarm all the gunmen before someone got shot, not with three basically incapacitated brothers, as much as I would absolutely love for her to beat them all up.
> 
> I can't decide whether to start with Bruce's or Damian's POV next. Bruce's would give you more of an incite into what kind of man Bruce thinks our bad guy is whilst Damians would probably be more his react to Dick getting stabbed and his frustration at not being giving permission to fight back etc. I will likely do both at some point but if you have a preference please let me know in the comments along with any other thoughts you have!


	4. Chapter 4

**Bruce**

Bruce feels has helpless as he did at 8 years old as he’s forced to watch his eldest son be stabbed, and he hates it. It’s as though everything happens in slow motion, Dick’s body taking the impact, the look of faint confusion on his face as he watches the blood start to seep out before the burning pain sets in and his son closes his eyes tight and grits his teeth. Bruce wants to rip off his shackles and wrap his hands around this man’s throat but whenever he moves all he can see is the heads of every single one of his children with bullets flying through them. He can’t lose anymore family members like that, never again.

How had he been so stupid? Richards had seemed so harmless the first and only time they’d met, he’d been so patient and kind with the child running around asking a million questions about his lab. All in all the absolute last person Bruce had ever imagined becoming a villain in his own right but, as he knew more than most, the loss of a child can do horrific things to a person. Why hadn’t he kept tabs on him? Underestimation, amateurish. Now he was looking at two of his sons steadily bleeding out onto their dining room carpet and his second eldest, his one child who wouldn’t go within two feet of any kind of drug, medical or not, was looking as though he was only just starting to comprehend what was really going on around him.

‘So,’ Bruce whipped his eyes back around where Richards was starting to make his way to stand behind his chair, ‘let’s try that again shall we Brucie? Can you do this one tiny favour for me?’

Tim was so pale, when was the last time Bruce had told him he was proud of him? He couldn’t remember.

‘You’ll need to uncuff me.’

‘I’m so glad you’ve started to see things my way, I really would hate to have to hurt anymore of your beautiful children.’

_ Liar _ . He couldn’t see a way to get them out of this on his own. The only feasible thing he could think to do was just to delay for as long as possible, keep them safe, and hope that Alfred had gotten the alert that Bruce had had time to hit before the men had reached his room. He couldn’t even think about the alternative, he just had to have warned Alfred early enough.

Bruce took a few deep breaths before putting on a show off wincing as he rubbed his forearms and wrists as they were momentarily released from their bindings, before they were quickly cuffed again, in front of him this time.

‘Now get on it rich boy, we don’t have all night.’

Bruce didn’t move his hands from where they rested on the edge of the table in front of him, he wasn’t confident that Tim was going to make it long enough without any help, ‘I’ll do this, if you let my son,’ he nodded towards Damian who had been clenching and unclenching his hands vigorously ever since he’d seen Dick get hurt, ‘look at his knee. Please he’s had medical training, just, please.’

It was a risk, he had no assurance that Richards wouldn’t just turn around and hurt someone else but he had to try both because Tim was in real danger of bleeding out but also because he knew Damian was in desperate need of something to do with his hands before he couldn’t stop himself from doing something robin-like and risking all of their lives.

Richards smirked mockingly, ‘you want a child to look at his knee? Maybe you are as stupid as the tabloids say Wayne. You know what? Fine but don’t think if he tries anything we won’t splatter his brains all over big brother just because he’s barely hit puberty.’

And breath out. Bruce didn’t risk trying his luck any further and turned to the screen in front of him, only watching through his peripheral vision as Damian bristled at the hand resting on his shoulder as he sharply demanded he be provided with a belt and one of the henchmen's batons so he could tie a tourniquet. The demanding tone earned more than a few weird looks so Bruce couldn’t help but sigh in relief when the items were handed over and Damian began to work to systematically stem the bleeding.

Bruce took in the bank account on screen, committing the number and any other identifying information to memory quicky, with any luck this laptop would never leave the room but who knew how far they might end up having to go to track the money back down. Then, feeling a little like he might throw up, Bruce began to empty the family accounts one by one, whilst cursing himself for personally shutting down the safeguards that were put in place for situations exactly like this one. Stupid to think that being the Batman would surely mean nothing like this whatever happen. But back then the only person who could ever have been used against him was Alfred and nobody but the two of them had known that.

The Wayne Enterprises accounts were slightly trickier and took longer, the ones he had access to were more protected and he could only move the money in smaller amounts because with Richards looking over his shoulder the entire time he didn’t have an opportunity to do anything that would trigger some sort of alert. The moment the last dollar went through Richards snapped the laptop closed sharply and passed it off to someone else, an eerily Joker-like grin spreading across his face.

‘Now I know money is important and everything but would this really be a revenge trip without a little eye for an eye action?’

Bruce’s stomach dropped as Richards pulled his gun back out and climbed onto the top of the table, where he started to slowly turn in place.

‘Problem is Brucie, I just cannot decide. I mean those two are already bleeding out, the blood-son would make things interesting, maybe the new kid? That’d definitely be a punch to the gut.’

The entire table tensed further as the barrel of the gun hovered in Duke’s direction for a moment and Bruce was seconds from throwing secret identities out the window and taking this guy down when it dropped away again.

‘But Jason here would be poetic justice? No! Wait, I know, let’s do the girl. Daughter for a daughter is much better.’

As he rounded on Cass, Richards face suddenly lost any hint of mockery and he levelled the gun at her with a serious, almost sad expression.

‘Close your eyes and it’ll be over quick, just remember that this is no ones fault but your dad’s.’

 

**Damian**

‘Cass.’

From where he was crouched on the floor in front of Drake, Damian had an infuriatingly limited view of above the table but he could see the his father’s hands as he signed their signal that meant, ‘it’s okay to compromise your identity,’ after he’d gotten Cain’s attention.

Damian was glad that father had finally come to his senses and seen that more drastic measures had to be taken. Yes he understood the need to maintain their civilian identities, but with Drake, Todd and now Grayson out of commission, although from his angle Damian could see that Todd was actually looking far more coherent, Damian would have thought that ensuring everybody’s survival was more important, not even considering the fact that their bank accounts were now empty as well.

Although he couldn’t see Cain dislocating her thumb he saw the familiar look of grim focus spread over her face and he prepared to take out the infuriating man who would not remove his hand from his shoulder. Just as Cain burst into a flurry of movement the lights went out plunging the room into complete darkness, which surely couldn’t have been their doing?

Ignoring that issue for now, he operated just as well in the dark anyway, Damian worked off of memory to sweep out the legs of the man directly behind him and shove him forcefully in the direction of the man he recalled to still be standing behind Tim. Quickly locating one of the knives they’d each had sheathed in their belts, Damian cut through the ropes binding Drake to his chair and urgently pulled his brother’s form forward and underneath the table, mere moments before a burst of bullets broke through the air where their heads had just been.

In the brief flash of light from the shots, Damian could make out the shape of what must be Cain and possibly Thomas? Working to take down those in their direct vicinity alongside two other figures who Damian couldn’t identify before the room was plunged back into darkness. With Drake safely covered by the table Damian shifted away until he felt the damp material of Grayson’s stupid alien pyjamas under his hands. Cautiously, he moved so he was crouched beside the chair and felt along so he could tear the tape from Richard’s mouth, resulting in several deep rasping breaths being taken right next to Damian’s ear.

‘Little D?’

‘Tt, of course it’s me Grayson.’

‘Are you hurt?’ He hated Richard’s habit of asking after others when he himself was clearly the one more injured.

‘I’m fine. Someone new is here so keep your head down before you get it shot off.’

He felt Richard move so his forehead was resting against Damian’s shoulder, he would be lying if he didn’t say that it wasn’t a little comforting to feel the steady rhythm of breathing through the thin material of his pyjamas as he worked to cut through the excessive amount of rope binding through Richards body, not that he would ever admit it. Just as he managed to get Richard free from the last of the rope, allowing him to slump forward further onto Damian, the lights flicked back on to reveal the carnage which had once been the family dining room.

He was a little surprised to see Batwoman flicking off what he assumed was night vision as she stepped over an unconscious body and started work on realising father from his cuffs. Batgirl was still taking down the last couple of goons alongside Cain who was fitted with a pair of night vision goggles that she tossed back to Brown as soon as they were done. Not like Cassandra Wayne would have been capable of helping out vigilantes.

When Damian’s eyes had adjusted to the light again his gaze was immediately drawn to where Todd was only moderately successfully dragging himself out of his chair, Thomas having just released him, and fumbling to pick up a random handgun that had been abandoned on the floor. Despite his obvious lack of coordination, Todd managed to make it over to where Richards was sitting handcuffed - still just about conscious- against the wall of the room. Before anyone else had a chance to do anything but watch Todd line the shaking gun with the guys forehead, Cain was already moving to get between them.

‘No killing!’’

‘Are you fucking with me? He was about to kill you?’ Todd’s speech was slurred but just about distinguishable.

‘Killing helps nothing.’

‘It helps me know he’s not going to hurt my family again.’

‘Police are here, killing is not needed.’

‘Jason put the gun down, you aren’t thinking straight.’

‘To hell with that B, I’m thinking as straight as I ev-’

‘Listen Jay.’

Damian tuned out the words for a minute and could clearly hear the sound of what was undoubtedly Gordon and the GCPD fast approaching. Thankfully, Todd had clearly heard it as well and come to the same conclusion, Jason Todd-Wayne standing over the body of a handcuffed dead man with a gun still hot in his hand had no good turn out for any of them. Clearly frustrated, Todd reluctantly dropped the gun and staggered to collapse back in his previously vacated chair just moments before Gordon stormed the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love both Cass and Jason to bits but that doesn't mean I think they would agree on much in anything other than alternate universes.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed but for some reason I'm not entirely sure about this chapter myself so let me know what you think of it in the comments if you can?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath begins. a bit of Dicks POV and then Tim has some nightmares.  
> Hope you enjoy!

**Dick**

If Dick had the strength he was pretty sure he’d have his hands pushed over his ears right now to block out the shouting that immediately filled the room as Gordon and what seemed like half of the GCPD and a hoard of paramedics swarmed the room. Instead he just focused on the feeling of Damian under the side of his head, his spiky hair brushing against his ear as he turned his head to watch the group enter. He was pretty sure he was pushing hard into Dick’s stab wound but honestly Dick couldn’t feel very much at in that area at the moment.

Around the edge of the group of paramedics that had swarmed him right after entering the room, at some point Damian had disappeared from his side, Dick could catch glimpses of the activity around him. He saw Bruce being released from his bindings by Gordon and lurching precariously to his feet, a torn expression on his face and panic in his eyes as though he had no idea which of his children to go to and it was leaving him frozen.

Jason was trying his hardest to prevent a medic from getting a needle anywhere near his arm, a struggle which resulted in Batwoman holding his hands tightly and keeping eye contact with him while coaxing him into taking deep breaths as he finally allowed the needle to be slipped under his skin so the medic could take some blood though he stubbornly refused to pass out despite haziness behind his eyes. Funny, Dick hadn’t known Jason and Kate knew each other that well.

He saw Tim being carried out of the room on a stretcher as he was lowered onto his back on the floor and transferred onto his own. Instinctively, he tried to sit up and called out after his baby brother, desperately worried about not being able to have all of his siblings within grabbing distance right now. He shoved against the hands trying to push him back down, his own arm gripped tight across the still steadily bleeding wound in his stomach, and called out again and again and again growing more and more frantic until Bruce suddenly appeared, crouched down in front of him.

‘He’s okay chum, he’s okay. You need to lie back down, Tim will be fine but you need to lie back down for me,’ Dick couldn’t help but lean into the hand Bruce had placed onto his forehead, rubbing with his thumb just like he’d always done whenever Dick was injured as Robin, and he instinctively let himself be pushed back down onto the stretcher, not breaking eye contact with Bruce for a moment. Dick barely felt the prick in his arm but he did notice when Bruce’s form started blurring badly and the hand running through his hair felt even more relaxing as his eyelids got heavier and heavier. Dick knew what a sedative felt like and instinct told him to fight with every fiber of his being to stay awake but fuck he was so tired. Tonight had been so long, well this morning now he supposed, this had officially been the worst birthday morning ever. How had he managed to forget it was his birthday? It was okay though because Bruce was here so surely he’d be okay to close his eyes for just a few moments?

 

**Tim**

_ ‘Earth to Tim? You in there buddy?’ Kon waved a hand in front of his face with a grin and Tim found himself suddenly jumping back to reality. A weird feeling spread through him with a violent shiver but he figured it was just down to his zoning out, again. With a content sigh Tim leant back further into Kon’s chest and reached over to nab the popcorn bowl from where Bart was hogging it on the other side of the couch. _

_ ‘Good to have you back Tim,’ Tim found himself grinning up at Cassie where she was curled up on a beanbag next to their couch, ‘you were just about to miss the best part!’ _

_ Tim couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the realisation that he’d been so wrapped up in his own head that he had completely forgotten what movie they were watching. Turning his attention to the screen Tim startled back against Kon as he saw his own face on the screen. He was sat on his bed in his room at the manor, wearing an oversized superboy t-shirt and typing away furiously on his laptop. Much like he had been on the night that… the night that… that- _

_ 'What is this?’ Tim turned his head so he could see Kon’s face clearly. _

_ 'Ssssh this is the best par-’ Tim jerked back as Kon’s head suddenly whipped to the side and the horribly familiar feeling of blood spraying across his face made him sick to his stomach. As Tim pushed himself up and off the couch with jerky frantic motions, Kon’s body slumped lifelessly forward revealing the bullet hole that crossed diagonally through his head, Tim could clearly see the way the shards of jagged shrapnel lodged in his boyfriend’s skull glowed green with kryptonite. Unable to bring himself to look at Conner’s still open empty eyes, Tim looked across at Bart and Cassie’s end of the sofa for help. He desperately threw both his hands over his mouth in an effort to keep from throwing up. Bart was collapsed back like a puppet with cut strings, his usually so joyful eyes were glossed over and void of anything at all just open and staring far far away. Cassie. Tim forced himself to take a deep breath and almost choked when the overwhelming smell of blood instantly filled his nose. Cassie’s throat had been cut in a jagged fashion and the blood was completely covering the floor, even underneath Tim’s feet but he couldn’t move a muscle even as it soaked through his socks. _

_ ‘This is all your fault Tim,’ the voice was familiar yet unplaceable just like the man in the doorway it belonged to. He was wearing a sharp three piece suit that seemed to remain completely untouched by the blood despite the fact that surely he had to have been the one to have done this. _

_ The man sighed as though greatly disappointed with something unknown to Tim, ‘first your family, now your friends. Poor Timmy Drake all alone in the world but unable to move on because he’s just too guilty.’ _

_ Tim wanted to protest the anonymous man’s words because why would he do something like this but he swallowed down the pleas because something in his gut told him that it was all true. This was his fault. It was that simple, it was all his fault. When tears began to blur his vision he did nothing to try and wipe them away, just stood there and looked down at his hands, sprayed red in Kon’s blood, as they started to swim out of focus. _

The first time Tim woke up he didn’t really wake up at all. He just became distinctly aware of the feeling of a familiar hand gripping his and the gentle rhythmic rub of a thumb against its back along with a steady beep-beep-beep in the background.

_ Tim blinked. _

_ ‘And then I said, B, if I want to go live on an island in an alien spaceship with Roy and Kori where we generally don’t bother with clothing because we are the only ones there, then you better deal with it because it’s my life and you know I’ve always done what the hell I want anyway. I genuinely thought he was going to pass out for a hot sec but then he just kinda blinked a bit and that’s less of a no than I’ve gotten before so I’m just going to run with it.’ _

_ He was sat across from Jason at the dining table in the penthouse in the city where he liked to stay sometimes if he found himself working late, but he couldn’t remember how’d he’d gotten here, though to be fair, with the amount he usually slept, that wasn’t exactly unusual. _

_ ‘Hey replacement, you alright? You’re looking a little green around the gills and that’s not just Alfie’s waffles doing it to you.’ _

_ Concern expressed by Jason in a genuine fashion, sounds like a dream, ‘yeah I’m fine, just sleeping worse than I thought I guess.’ _

_ Immediately Jason shot that crooked smile of his across the table, ‘yeah I bet, missing that Kryptonian boytoy of yours are we? When are he and Clark coming back from the Fortress again?’ _

_ ‘End of the week,’ something in Tim’s gut instinctually told him that was right and he turned back to the pile of food on his plate, ‘we’re going to spend the weekend together in Jump City when he gets back.’ _

_ Silence spread out between them for so long until Tim frowned and looked back up at Jason, wondering if he’d somehow managed to say something wrong without having noticed. Only blood was pouring from Jason’s mouth as he stared down, blinking slowly, at the gaping hole in his chest where his heart should be. Tim tried to push himself to his feet but to his shock his wrists and ankles were now tightly bound to the chair which was somehow bolted to the floor and he was powerless to do anything as Jason, who shouldn’t logically still be alive right now, stared at him and began to choke up words, _

_ ‘Your… fault.’ He paused to cough up a clump of blood onto the still food filled plate in front of him, ‘I thought… I could… trust…’ _

The second time Tim woke up it was to a soothing hand running through his hair and he felt it hesitating on his forehead for a moment before it dropped away. The distant rumble of voices filled the space around him and just as Tim thought he’d be able to actually begin to decipher the word’s meaning he was swallowed by the dreaded darkness again.

_ Crack. Smack. Scream. _

_ Crack. Smack. Scream. _

_ Crack. Smack. Scream. _

_ Tim had stopped flinching a long time ago and now he just hung there, unable to look as the man in the suit whipped Dick again and again and again for what must have been hours now. He was terrified because the man was talking to him but the only sounds Tim was processing were complete gibberish and he had no idea what he wanted, no clue how to make this guy stop. He’d tried to explain but the man had simply shouted at him in the same unintelligible nonsense and gone back to focusing on Dick. _

_ Almost worse than the inescapable screams of agony was the unmistakable and overwhelming feeling of complete and utter responsibility settled deep in his gut. Tim couldn’t remember how they’d gotten here but he knew without a doubt that it was all his fault. His fault Dick was on the brink of death. His fault they can’t escape. His fault. His fault. His fault. _

_ Tim’s spirally was suddenly cut off by the already dim lighting cutting out and the door, the one entrance to the room, slamming open. Before Tim’s eyes had the chance to adjust, the light had flickered back on and the man in the suit was gone, leaving Tim looking at Batman slowly working to lower Dick’s bloody form back onto the ground. Damian was also there, in a Robin suit that looked disturbingly more similar to Tim’s old one than the kids own get up, he approached and Tim relaxed slightly, expecting to be untied, but frowned when Damian stopped a few feet away and crossed his arms. _

_ ‘Robin, what are you doing? Untie me!’ Tim shook the chains holding his hands above his head for emphasis. He really didn’t have time for the brat’s games right now, he needed to make sure Dick was okay. _

_ Damian barely even blinked at him, ‘Tt, why should I? I’ve no reason to aid a traitor to this family.’ _

_ Tim froze, ‘What?’ he tried not to react to how unsure his voice sounded. _

_ ‘Father and the rest agree, you don’t deserve the title of Bat or Wayne and a betrayer definitely doesn’t deserve our help. We will be taking Grayson home and leaving you to help yourself, such is your true nature.’ _

_ ‘Damian, this isn’t funny. Bruce?’ _

_ Anxiety pooling in his gut, mixing tastelessly with the guilt already clamming him up, Tim turned his attention to where Bruce was standing, Dick cradled in his arms, watching the exchange impassively. _

_ ‘I should never have allowed you to have Robin in the first place,’ his tone was cold and impassive and cut through Tim like a knife and he was left speechless and shaking, forced to watch as Batman and Robin stalked out of the room and just left him hanging from the ceiling. All his fault. His fault. His fault. _

Tim jerked awake violently and immediately sat up, ripping at the cannula tube that was in his nose when it restricted his movement. Eye blown wide he barely had time to take in the room before large warm hands were on his shoulders and gently pushing him back down onto the bed. Bruce hushed him quietly until Tim stopped pushing against his hands and settled back down onto the hospital white sheets. Nothing made any sense, why was Bruce here, it was his fault the men had gotten in, Bruce had to know that by now, would have seen the security footage of him in his room doing it, Bruce shouldn’t want him anymore.

The first thing that he said after Bruce had forced him to suck several ice chips that the doctors who had rushed in due to his awakening and then promptly left them alone when they deemed him okay but strictly prohibited from moving was an apology. He could only get out a broken, ‘I’m so sorry,’ before his voice cracked but he tried to pore as much sincerity as he could into his eyes whilst trying to hold back the pure terror that Bruce was going to walk out on him.

‘No Tim, no. None of this is your fault son. I swear, there is no way you could’ve known.’

‘But Dick, Jason-’

‘Are making full recoveries one floor down and will both be thrilled to know you’ve woken up,’ Tim couldn’t help but close his eyes as Bruce used a hand to carefully push his hair back from his face.

‘Go back to sleep son, everyone will still be here when you wake back up.’

Thanking the world for good quality painkillers, Tim did his best to ignore the anxiety gnawing at the back of his head and drifted back into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought in the comments, love to hear what you liked and I'm always looking for ways to improve my writing!
> 
> Also if you hadn't guessed I'm totally a sucker for that thing where Bruce calms his kids down by pushing their hair back off their foreheads because that's the good shit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am never formatting from my phone again cause that was the worst thing ever. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter!

**Jason**

So there was a slight chance that Jason wasn’t exactly supposed to be here right now. He may have blinked awake, after finally passing out back at the manor when the rapid movement and noise filling the room had been too much, just when they were transferring him from the stretcher he’d come in on to a hospital bed and then panicked just a little when someone had started to take off his pyjama trousers, no doubt to replace them with something hospital issued. Still more than a little delirious, Jason could vaguely remember surging up into a seated position and swinging hard into the head of one of the two nurses standing over him. The poor guy had fallen to the floor and the girl had immediately backed off and called out resulting in a whole swarm of hospital personnel sweeping into the room. Which, of course, only resulted in Jason panicking further.

‘So we definitely can’t just give him a sedative?’

Hands pushing him down, holding him down against the bed.

‘No, safest for him to just sleep it off. There was so much in his system that it shouldn’t even be possible for him to be awake right now.’

‘Mr Wayne, Mr Wayne, Jason, I need you to calm down. You’re safe, you’re at Gotham General Hospital. You’re father is upstairs with your brother and your sister is currently outside this room. No one here is trying to hurt you but I need you to calm down.’

Trying desperately to listen to the voice Jason stopped struggling enough to allow himself to be pushed back to being flat on the bed but his hands were still shaking from the tension flooding through his body and his heart was thumping a mile a minute, his breathing along with it. The hands were still touching him, there were less of them now, but they were still  _ everywhere _ .

‘Should we restrain him? If he loses control and swings at one of us again… Morgan’s probably got a concussion!’

‘Please, don’t.’ Jason spoke before he could think clearly, his voice horribly scratchy and broken due to the borderline painful dryness in his throat but he wasn’t sure he could take them trying to strap him down without injuring someone and he really didn’t want to do that. Fuck, there was a reason Jason never let anyone that wasn’t Doc Thompkins, Alfred or himself patch him up. Ever.

‘You will do no such thing!’

Jason finally felt the shaking in his hands start to calm, ‘Alfie.’

To an outsider Alfred would look exactly as perfectly put together as he always did but Jason knew him, he could see the bags under the man’s eyes that indicated lack of sleep, as well as the abnormal creases in his suit that Alfred wouldn’t usually be seen dead wearing.

‘Now, I promise, if you would all kindly remove your hands from Master Jason here, you will find that he manages to calm down quite quickly on his own.’

Despite the fact that they technically held the authority in the room, Jason wasn’t surprised when everyone surrounding his bed immediately took a step back. Most even went so far as to leave the room, after a look from Alfred, until it was only the two of them, the big guy who had previously been holding Jason’s shoulders down and the female nurse who was still holding the hospital gown tightly in her hand.

It was immediately easier to breath now that he couldn’t feel all those hands crawling across his skin and the adrenaline flowing through his system was definitely dwindling, so they weren’t wrong about this shit in his body being pretty strong. Jason still couldn’t help but tense up when the nurse made to step forward, the hospital gown held out in front of her and a determined look on her face but she was almost immediately blocked by Alfred who put his hand out expectantly. Upon having banished the two remaining staff members from the room with a promise that he would make sure Jason changed into the offending white and blue garment, Alfred turned back to the bed and sat carefully down on the edge of it.

‘Really Master Jason, if you’re going to sock the nurses at least go for the one that weighs more than 140 lbs soaking wet.’

And Jason couldn’t help but crack a smile at that, even if he was practically asleep already.

So when Jason had woken up, dressed in that stupid hospital gown, he had nodded along obediently when a nurse had come in to check him over and then told him that he had to stay in bed for the next 24 hours so they could ensure his system was completely clean and that he wasn’t going to pass out after 2 minutes of being on his feet.

He’d then actually listened as Duke, who had been the one there when he woke up, had dutifully recounted how Dick was down the hall with Damian practically glued to his bedside and Tim was upstairs with Cass and Kon, who had flown in the window almost immediately. Supposedly, though Jason wasn’t overly convinced, Bruce had actually visited him while he was unconscious. However, he’d spent the last night solely beside Tim because the boy had started outwardly reacting to some kind of string of nightmares he was having.

Duke had gotten up a little while later to go in search of coffee and Jason had promptly ignored the suggestion to ‘get some more sleep’ and had dragged himself to his feet and with some help and support from a nearby wall managed to pull on the tshirt and jeans he’d found folded on a chair in the corner of his room.

Now, he was hiding on the roof smoking a cigarette that he’d lifted from a guy he’d passed in the corridor. Probably not something recommended by the doctor but he’d had a fucking shit night so he’d have a goddamn cigarette if he wanted one.

‘Someone’s going to notice soon that one of the Wayne boys has disappeared from his bed.’

Jason looked forwards and took a deep drag as he saw Bruce sit down next to him out of the corner of his eye, ‘Far as I know both Wayne boys are still exactly where the doctor left them.’

‘I’m just surprised you’re still here at all,’ to Jason’s surprise Bruce pulled his own cigarette out of a trouser pocket and hung it loosely between two fingers, ‘got a light?’

‘And here I was thinking nothing ever surprised you,’ he finally turned to face Bruce as he offered the stolen lighter across the short gap between them, ‘you look like shit.’

He wasn’t lying, Bruce looked exhausted and battered. Mostly like a man who hadn’t slept or stopped thinking for far too long.

Bruce wasn’t looking at him, instead he turned and exhaled smoke in the direction of Wayne Enterprises, ‘yeah well that’s generally what happens when you have three of your sons hospitalised in the same night and every single one of your kids almost shot in front of you.’

‘Yeah,’ Jason momentarily considered just straight up jumping to the roof of the next building over and running to his nearest safehouse, ‘just don’t do that thing where you shut yourself off from everyone because you’re too busy blaming yourself, it’s shitty as hell and the kids need you to be better than that.’

Bruce didn’t say anything right away just stubbed his smoke out between them and stood up to head back inside. Just before he opened the door, Jason heard him pause but refused to look away from the horizon.

‘Go back to bed Jason.’ and then he was gone.

Jason stayed on the roof for 10 minutes more, in protest, before he followed him back downstairs and slid back into bed.

 

**Dick**

Dick had always been awful at being put on bedrest. Back as robin it had been due to a complete inability to sit still, something that had definitely lingered, but later on as Nightwing it became more to do with the voice in the back of his head constantly repeating how he was no use to Batman in bed and that no matter how injured he was he was still capable of something. The thing was though, that right now he wasn’t Robin or Nightwing or even Batman, he was Richard Grayson-Wayne and Richard Grayson-Wayne would not be capable of doing anything aside from staying in bed and healing until the doctors declared otherwise.

Visits made it just about bearable and stopped him from trying to escape out the window, secret identities be damned. It would be almost cute the way that Damian basically hadn’t left his side ever since he’d woken up if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew that deep down the kid was terrified of leaving him alone for two long. He hated it when any of his younger siblings saw him get hurt.

Bruce had come down when he’d woken up and visited most days but understandably was spending most of his time beside Tim, who was still drifting in and out of consciousness though, from what Dick heard, he was staying awake for longer and longer periods. Dick had actually shouted at one of the doctors when they’d refused to let him transfer from his bed to a wheelchair for a couple of hours so that he could go and visit his younger brother. It infuriated him to no end to know that Tim was only one floor up but he wasn’t being allowed to see him. The doctor had explained in an infuriatingly patient manor that it was because they really could risk any kind of damage being done to his stitches, that the knife had been anything but clean and there was a real risk of infection. Not to mention that Tim seeing him as weak as he was right now would only lead to stress and a prolonged recovery for both of them.

Jason had poked his head in the door briefly after he’d been discharged but Dick had been half asleep and he’d been gone when he’d woken back up again but that wasn’t exactly surprising. Jason had made a habit out of emotionally retreating whenever something occured around the family that scared him.

It was Wally who was an absolute godsend. He visited Dick during hours in civilian clothes whenever he could but it was when he sped in at night, his arms filled with non-hospital food that he really dug his way into Dick’s heart. He also brought Dick the newspapers emblazoned with pictures of him, Tim and Jason being carried from the manor. A grainy picture of Batgirl and Batwoman on the roof of Wayne manor. A shot of Bruce standing on the steps of Gotham General with numerous microphones thrust in his face at what must be press conference, Dick tried to watch the video that corresponded to that picture but had quickly turned it back off. He had never been able to stand to watch Bruce cry.

 

**Bruce**

‘I’d like to start of by thanking everyone who has shown support to me and my family over the past week but would like to ask that you continue to respect our privacy.’

Deep breath.

‘All operations were successful, the staff of Gotham General did an excellent job and I am planning on making a large donation. Richard and Timothy are expected to make full recoveries and Jason was quietly discharged last week with a clean bill of health.

‘I would like the press and any civilians to refrain from asking the boys, or any of my children, for details of what occurred that night as I wish to protect them from any further distress. There will be a trial and there will be testimonies. I speak for the whole family when I say that we will be thankful to hear it when the people who did this find their way to Blackgate.’

Bruce took a couple more deep breaths and focused on not making his blinking noticeably rapid, he really didn’t want to cry on national tv again. The idea was that he would cover as much as he could himself so that there would be less demand he answered questions later.

‘We have identified the security flaw that allowed the assailants to enter the manor. It was nobody's fault and was fixed immediately, I will not allow this incident to be repeated. That is all I am willing to say at this time, and would like to return to my family.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s going to be the final chapter for this as I never originally intended for it to go past this point. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented, left kudos on and bookmarked this fic, I appreciate every one of you. 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, and overall, down in the comments!!

**Author's Note:**

> Don't hesitate to tell me if i haven't tagged something you think needs tagging because the last thing i want to do is miss something important by accident.


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